Finding Their Own Strength
by Everlastingpassion13
Summary: "The next moment was her errant, supposed demise. Except it hadn't been her demise. Strangely enough she'd been rescued by none other than Altea's own knight in red, Cain."


The soft moonlight shimmered across her mare's snout and she brushed her fingers through her mane, smiling when she snorted into her face. It was late, a night more peaceful than the last. Her eyes wandered towards the gash on her mare's side and her smile faded into a scowl. It'd been her mistake, her blunder, that nearly cost her mare's life, not to mention that of her sisters, and her liege. She hadn't noticed the archer, he'd been too quick and her too slow. It'd hit so quickly, she remembered stars in her vision as her Pegasus swayed, knocking it's body into the nearest tree, dislodging her from her perch on her back. She'd fallen heavily, broke a few ribs and a leg. She'd bled out, she thought she might die.

Her hands gliding instinctively to the bandages wrapped around her torso. Gingerly, she picked at the lining, knowing full well Lena would chastise her for picking at her wounds. She'd never been one to complain, but the extra weight against her chest felt heavier tonight and her mind wandered to the disaster that landed her and her mare grounded that eve.

_The whistling of wind blew through her ears so fast and rapid as she and her sisters flew at lightning speeds through the skies. Enemy knights were upon them instantly, but all three sisters were more than capable, dispatching each one with a quick, perfectly aimed strike to the rider, sparing the Pegasus, or dragon. Est cheered triumphantly once the last man was dead, fell prey to the end of Catria's own lance. The smell was still strong, the scent of his blood, dripping onto the back of her Pegasus and she coldly chucked the remnants of his corpse over the side, wiping as much of the blood off of her darling mare as possible. She'd surely need another bath when they returned. _

_ It was then she heard Caeda's voice, loud and shrill, her exclamation of horror, the strangled sound caused all three sisters to stir with surprise, and then fear. It taken only that one name to escape her lips for Catria to click her heels against her mare's side and send her surging forwards into enemy lines. Palla's voice called her back, but she barely heard it, so preoccupied with reaching him, that the archer on the hill, his arrow aimed directly for her, escaped her sight. The next moment was her errant, supposed demise. _

_Except it hadn't been her demise. Strangely enough she'd been rescued by none other than Altea's own knight in red, Cain. The man had found her alone, atop his steed; immediately he'd scooped her up and rode back to the army, seemingly avoiding all encounters with the enemy. _

_ She'd been barely conscious at that moment but heard his whispered words of confidence to her, "Hang in there." "You can't die here." "Think of your sisters. They need you." And it had been his words that had her crawling out of unconsciousness and into the waking, painful world where her body was on fire and her head felt like it had been split open. _

She clutched her stitches again, wincing slightly at the pain that throbbed still from her wound. Lena had given her a vulnerary and healed her bones, but the ribs needed time to set and it was this pain that kept Catria squirming in her sleep, plagued by nightmares of her failure. She'd finally been unable to deal with the constant jolting of her mind as it sprung awake after every dream, and she had headed to her mare's stall in search of some comfort.

The distinct sound of footsteps made Catria pause and she turned just in time to find a familiar red-head walk into the stalls, a bucket and brush in hand. He stopped upon seeing Catria. "Catria? What are you doing here?" His eyes drifted instinctively to her side, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She assured him and tilted her head to the things in his hand. "Who is that for?"

Cain set the bucket down and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking off to the side, "Well, I figured your Pegasus might appreciate a bath."

"So late?" She countered, pointing with her chin to the moon shining directly above them. She returned her gaze to his with a firm smile. "Now tell me what you're really up to."

He sighed and grinned. "Alright, I saw you leaving your tent and wondered if you needed some company."

It was a strange gesture, considering how little the two of them interacted with one another, and yet Catria was oddly pleased. She outstretched her hand, waiting for the brush, and Cain silently handed her the object. Soon they were both inside Catria's mare's stall, hands running through the Pegasus' white hair, brush smoothing down clotted curls and water gently tugging knots out of place. The quiet swishing of the water hovered in their wake, concentration solely on washing the Pegasus.

The silence was welcome to Catria; she appreciated Cain's perceptiveness. She looked up over her Pegasus' shoulder, catching sight of his red hair as he moved on the other side of her mare's body. Her hand made gentle strokes down her Pegasus' side. She smiled slightly at the wet nose that rubbed against her cheek and she affectionately patted her head. Cain's eyes peered over the side of the Pegasus, a slight amused look shone in them and Catria immediately frowned, returning to her stoicism.

"Don't mind me." He laughed and she proceeded to throwing the brush into his face. He dodged easily and laughed again but Catria ignored it this time, returning to brushing her mare with her fingers alone. Then she felt cold, wet water dunked over her head and she gasped, drawing immediately back as she saw Cain, bucket in hand, grinning mischievously back at her. Growling with annoyance, Catria made to swat him but he caught her hand mid-strike and she huffed, trying to free it from his grasp.

"Hey, you're so serious all the time." Cain said, giving her a lopsided grin, "I wonder if you're ticklish."

Her eyes narrowed, "Don't you dare."

He indicated his hand around her wrist, "You wouldn't be able to get away even if you tried." Her eyes widened and he lunged for her then, hands at her sides. She tried to push him off but he was too fast and too strong, and then ravages of sharp, prickling feeling coursed up her spine and she bit her lip in hopes of smothering her laughter. But then his hand ghosted to close to that one special place where she was the weakest, and she couldn't hold it in any longer. She was laughing loudly now and he was grinning, hands moving down a little too far... a sharp pain coursed up her side and she choked on her laugh, hissing where his hand brushed her wound. He pulled back immediately, concern in his eyes as she brought at hand to her bandages.

"You dolt." She glared and his expression became sheepish with worry.

"I'd forgotten all about your wound. You had looked so peaceful up against your Pegasus, I'd forgotten you were hurt." His eyes trailed to the hand that clutched her side, "Is it bleeding again?"

"No." She said tersely, the inherent amusement fading from her now and giving way to stubbornness. She moved away from him then and he obliged her, backing off too, hand rubbing the back of his neck and eyes moving to anywhere but her. "No more playing around." She added with a quick glare for emphasis, and he raised his hands in surrender before returning to his side to continue their bathing job.

The rest of the work was done in silence, with Catria's brooding expression laying between them. Deep down she knew she shouldn't be angry, he'd apologized she should have done the same. And yet...

She looked up over her mare to see his eyes, intense, staring directly at her Pegasus and nowhere else. She watched the slight furrow to his brow as he went about undoing knots and washing out dirt. And she noticed the circles under his eyes then and she bit her lip. He should be sleeping right about now, he'd had to have been up all night on guard duty, and especially because of Marth's wounds from the battle... he'd be worried for his liege.

"Cain." He looked up in surprise, his expression wary and she stared back at him intently. "Why are you not with Prince Marth?"

The knight looked away and said no words. A sudden unexplainable fury rose up inside her and Catria was at Cain's side in an instance, hands balled into fists. "Why are you here and not with Prince Marth?" She asked again and this time the knight lifted his chin and met her eyes.

"I was worried about you."

"You're loyalty lies with your Prince." She growled the words. "You are a knight, in fact, and yet you act like you have no care in the world. I would be along his side no matter the circumstances-"

"Caeda is with him. They wanted to be alone." Those words halted Catria's tirade and she pressed a hand to her side, against the bandages clutching her waist.

"It was a request?"

Cain looked sideways as he spoke, "No. But I guessed as much." Catria stilled. Cain seemed to notice the change in her demeanor, for he rested a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, "I know how you feel-"

"You know nothing." She hissed, jerking his hand off of her and turning her back to him. And yet he refused to take the hint and walked around her so he faced her once more, his eyes a solid color of understanding and it made her throat clench.

"I do. Catria," His hand gently reached forwards and brushed a strand of her short, blue hair behind her ear. The gesture made her look more closely at her comrade and the gentleness of Cain's smile. "He is special."

"He is the Prince." She whispered and Cain nodded. She swallowed her sadness, knowing full well it meant nothing and would never mean anything to her, or to him, or to herself. It would only serve to cripple her. Her hand instinctively moved to the bandages around her side and she pressed with force on the wound, wincing at the pain the sparked up her side. It was a welcome sensation, driving away the desperation that wished to cloud her mind. She was a Macedonian knight, not a weak-hearted lady-in-waiting. This wound was given to her by her own negligence, her lack of foresight, her strength of emotion for a man who saw her only as a knight of Macedon and nothing more.

"Do you want to see him?" Cain asked suddenly and Catria looked up into his face, saw the cloud over his eyes and turned her head away to think. She'd meet her Commander, that was all.

"I do." She answered and Cain took a deep breath and nodded, turning and leading her towards his liege's tent. He opened the flap first before stepping aside and holding it open for her to slip through. Inside were Caeda, sitting delicately on the chair beside Marth's cot, and Marth himself, sitting up in his bed, eyes alight with curiosity.

"Where did you run off to Cain?" Marth joked and turned his gaze to Catria. His eyes moved instinctively to her side, though her bandages were covered by her clothes, and asked, "Are you alright, Catria?"

The first words out of his mouth to her and they were worrisome. She nodded in answer, steeling her resolve, and glanced at the quiet Caeda who had relief in her eyes as she stared at Catria. The gentleness of her gaze made it worse for Catria and she swallowed again a lump forming in her throat and stared ahead at Marth, dipping low into a bow, "I wished only to see if you were well, Prince."

"I am. Thank you for worrying about me. I wish you would show yourself that same kindness. You must be exhausted, please, go rest." He tilted his head, his eyes still worried over her and she nodded her thanks, bowing a second time, before leaving the tent. Cain bade his farewells and followed after her, eyes trained on her the whole way. She glanced at him once they were clear of the tent and noticed the stiffness of his shoulders and body. His eyes were drawn back, brows lowered, a line across his forehead.

"Are you satisfied?" He asked, a bitterness to his tone and Catria frowned at his behavior.

"I am."

"And you wish to leave it at that?" He asked again, his voice taunt.

"I do."

"I don't understand you." He said next, eyes narrowed but no longer focused on her but back on Marth's tent. His hands clenched and unclenched. "You could fight for what you want and yet you give it to her so easily."

"It is not my battle to fight." She answered coldly and without emotion, a numbness to her body and her heart. Lady Caeda was strong, and she loved Prince Marth, that was easy to see. She was gentle and she would make a great Queen. Catria had Macedon, Palla, Est, Princess Minerva, she had other obligations. Her heart was made of stronger stuff, and yet she could never abandon all of her responsibilities to run after a man who could never love her. She glanced at Cain and his stiff back. His eyes did not move from Marth's tent, his brow deeper than before.

"Cain, are you worried?" She asked softly. He turned his head to look at her then, his gaze distant.

"About my Prince? He is strong, and I swore my life to protecting him. That is my duty."

"You take your duty seriously." She noted, with a semblance of understanding to her tone. She and Cain were the same.

He presented her with a small smile, "And you yours." His fingers found her cheek and caressed it gently. "You are strong Catria."

She let him do as he pleased, closing her eyes to the sensation. "Thank you, Cain." She opened her eyes and gently took the hand on her cheek in her own, smiling back at him she squeezed his fingers before turning and heading back to her Pegasus, where she knew she'd find a place where she was comfortable.

* * *

**This story isn't exactly a Cain/Catria but more of a Cain/Marth, Catria/Marth fic. I wrote it more as inspiration revolving around Catria's feelings for Marth, and Cain's competition with Caeda as Marth's "strength". 3 But I do love the pairings Cain/Catria and I will be writing more about them in the future. **


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